Limp - Newmas High School!AU

Chapter 6 - Concussions and Cute Blondes

Warnings: Cursing

Rating: PG - PG-13

A/N: THIS CHAPTER OH DAMN THIS CHAPTER THIS IS IT 5 CHAPTERS LATER HERE WE ARE BUDDY O MAN ENJOY

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The slow flurry came seeming out of nowhere. Snow poured down onto the city, and wind brushed itself across trees and houses, rattling leaves and windows. Thomas and Minho's drive home was cut off abrupty by the blocked roads and strong winds. Minho's car had deciced to peel out onto the asphalt and skid into a snowbank, which took them a few minutes to manage to push free of. Minho was forced to take a detour down the side of town that was least slicked in snow, to find somewhere safe to stop.

"This is fucking ridiculous." Minho groaned, hands gribbing the wheel firmly. Thomas sat next to him, nervously tapping the dashboard. The storm was becoming so bad, that they might've had to straight up stop in the road and risk freezing to death of getting mugged in a snowstorm. They did, however manage to find themselves in a small slum-like neighborhood, filled with small alleyways and dilapidated shops. It definitely was still inhabited, however, it seemed like a ghost town in the white flush of ice.

"Minho, I think theres an auto shop there." Thomas said, squinting through the frosted window. Minho took a sharp turn, pulling into one of the garages. Thomas hoped the owner wouldn't mind if they managed to stay here for awhile while the storm calmed down. Minho kept the car running before turning to Thomas.

"Okay, we jump out and make a run for the building." Minho said, biting his lip.

"That can't be safe." Thomas said with great distrust of Minho's idea.

"Probably not. But we shouldn't stay here."

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do-" Thomas started, before Minho cut him off with a snarky "blah blah blah just move."

Thomas opened his door, and had little time to process his surroundings before making a mad dash to the shop. He skidded across the icy ground, slosed through the snow, was blown back into Minho a few times from the cold gusts, and even fell into the powdered ground several times before even making it somewhat close to the door. Before he knew it, he found himself unable to see and slamming into something hard and tall and very, very painful.

Thomas fell flat on his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs, as he heaved for air. He felt a knot already forming on his forehead. His body sank into the snow below him, the world becoming blurry around him. Suddenly, a figure appeared above him. At first, it appeared that Minho had found him, however, the more his vision came back, the more panicked he became. It was the outline of a girl standing over him. Thomas let out a groan, shaking his head in the sleet below him. The figure crossed her arms, and leaned in closer, before smiling.

"Hey Newt! This yours?"

--
Thomas woke up to the sound of light laughter and whispers. His mind was a blur of thoughts, and his head pounded with pain. He struggled upward, realizing he was on a couch, covered with a blanket. He looked around the room he was in. It was a small-ish garage, various parts and tires were strung across the room. The garage door was closed, although it rattled quietly, Thomas assumed from the storm outside. He thought about what had happened, falling in the snow and seeing a girl over him, speaking to another that he couldn't see.

She was speaking to Newt. The Newt he had met. His Newt.

Across the room, a girl and a guy sat, laughing. He turned to his left to see Minho sleeping, curled up in an armchair to his side, a blanket draped over him. Thomas rubbed his forehead, groaning softly. The girl turned towards him, before smiling and making her way to him.

"Awake?" She mused. Thomas stared at her with curiosity. She was incredibly cute and small, her facial features soft, unlike Teresa's dramatic features. She had long brown hair, messily draped underneath a gray beanie. She had black plugs in her ears, along with an array of other piercings in them, yet her face of clear of any sort of unnatural anything, like makeup or jewelry. she sported a black band T-shirt, ripped black jeans, and red vans. She looked like danger and risk, yet her smile was sweet and filled with warmth. Thomas rubbed his forehead, before stuttering out.

"I am now."

The girl laughed, hitting him on the shoulder. She turned to the man behind her, smiling broadly.

"Look Jorge, he's not dead. This one's a keeper."

The man, presumably Jorge, didn't look much too older than Thomas. Maybe 20, 23. He was covered in snow and grime, and had a blue button up on, with a nametag reading Jorge.

"Good for him. Hey kid, feeling okay?" Jorge asked, pulling himself to stride towards Thomas. Thomas continued feeling the bump on his head, whining at the pain every time he put pressure on it. Jorge looked and the girl, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Get this poor kid some ice, would you? And find Isaac while you're at it. That boy is always dissapearing." He mused.

Isaac.
Newt was here.

Thomas' eyes widened as he processed the last sentence. Before he could ask questions, the girl spoke up.

"I'm Brenda." She smiled, before running out of the room. Jorge took up a chair across the couch, and rested his elbows on his knees.

"I'm Jorge, and this is my family's auto shop. That's Brenda. She works here. There's also Isaac. He's here too. You smashed your head into a metal pole. Your friend here stayed with you and we brought you both here. Any questions."

Thomas blinked, feeling slightly put off by the man's so matter-of-fact statement. Before he could stop himself, he had already sputtered out his words.

"Isaac Newton?"

Jorge raised an eyebrow and nodded, crossing his arms.

"What's your name, muchacho?" Jorge asked.

"Thomas."

Jorge nodded some more, and got to his feet.

"Well Thomas, once your friend wakes up and the storm clears out, we'll fix up your car and send you on your way. Until then, anything you need?"

Thomas shook his head, and thanked him for the help. Jorge smacked him on the arm and walked out of the room. Thomas sighed, nervously looking around the room. He considered waking up Minho, but decided a tired, cranky Minho was not the best idea in the current situation.

Thomas walked up to the door, preparing to open it and go looking for Brenda, the only person he could think of to talk to. Before he grabbed the door handle, the door swung open, whacking him in the forehead again.

"Ow-Fuck!" Thomas cried out. He opened his eyes, rubbing the spot and biting his lip, before stumbling backward. A hand grabbed his, pulling him back up. He steadied himself, looking at the person directly in front of him.

"Hey Thomas Dieson." The voice responded. "Sorry, you okay?"

Newt stood in front of him, holding his body to his. Thomas yelped and stumbled again, this time falling to the floor. Newt snorted and grabbed Thomas again, pulling him to his feet.

"I... ow, god." Thomas groaned, holding his hand to his forehead. Newt flashed him that lopsided smile, his piercings upturning slightly.

"Don't worry, Brenda's finding you some ice for that. You sure took a blow out there, guess you have less coordination than me." Newt mused to Thomas, leaning weight into his bad leg.

"Yeah, I naturally attract metal poles." Thomas groaned.

"And blonde outsiders, clearly." A voice said from the chair in the room. Minho had woken up, laughing at the two. Thomas realized he was still holding Newt's hand pressed against him. His face flushed as he pulled his hand away. Brenda appeared with the ice, as Thomas held it to his head, Newt took a seat on the couch next to him. Thomas thought for a second. He couldn't stop wondering about Newt the entire week. And suddenly, the gods had pushed Newt right into him. Right in front of him, with his messy blonde hair and orange eyes and calm smile.

And he's sorta glad they did.